


soaring

by Satine86



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 16:30:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15561831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satine86/pseuds/Satine86
Summary: Thoughts and ideas flitted through her mind as well, imagining a life built together. Some thoughts were innocuous, rather frivolous, and others perhaps a little untoward. She didn’t feel any shame over it though, she loved Phillip and he loved her, that was as much a fact as the sky was blue.





	soaring

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends. I bring you a thing. A thing I started back in May because I wanted to write 'canon' smut. It's morphed along the way, so idek anymore. Did I mention I started this in **May**?

Anne sat quietly on her bed, tucked in the back of the room. She was pretending to stitch up a hole in her costume while subtly watching Phillip instead. He had, like many times in the past, opted to go over his paperwork in her caravan instead of his office, or his own residence. It was something comfortable, both enjoying the other’s presence even if neither talked much while he worked. 

Today she watched as he frowned at the ledger in front of him before sitting up a little straighter, and rubbing tired eyes. He blinked to clear his vision, and reached out for the cup of tea she had prepared when he first arrived. Taking a sip he made a face when he realized it had gone cold, then shrugged and drank it anyway. Anne had to press her lips together to keep from laughing out loud, breath hissing out through her nose. 

She loved watching him in these quiet, little moments. It meant she got to see him in ways no one else did, a privilege reserved solely for her. Because sitting there, in her tidy little home hidden away behind the big top, he wasn’t Mister Carlyle, the producer and social elite; stuffed into a tuxedo and life he never truly wanted. Nor was he the more recent iteration: Phillip Carlyle, ringmaster. A true showman in his own right. Instead he was simply Phillip, a man who usually worked too much and slept too little and had a bigger heart than he would care to admit. A man she loved more than anything in the whole wide world; a man she still was learning about. 

Anne continued to covertly watch him as he worked, scrunching his eyes shut while he did math in his head before writing the total down in the margins. She knew his handwriting was neat and tidy, but a little cramped. She may have known that, but there were still a great many things she did not know. Anne knew they had time, the rest of their lives in fact, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t curious. 

Thoughts and ideas flitted through her mind as well, imagining a life built together. Some thoughts were innocuous, some rather frivolous, and others perhaps a little untoward. She didn’t feel any shame over it though, she loved Phillip and he loved her, that was as much a fact as the sky was blue. So why shouldn’t she wonder? Why shouldn’t she imagine… why shouldn't she know?

“Phillip?” she called softly, setting aside her long ignored sewing.

“Hm?” His gaze lifted to meet hers, eyes softening and a smile curving the corner of his mouth. She knew, without a doubt, she had his full attention. Always. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

He tilted his head at her quizzically, shrugged a shoulder. “Of course. You can ask me anything.” 

“Do you…” she trailed off, attempting to find the best way to phrase her question. She picked at a callous on her palm rather than meet his eye, suddenly regretting ever thinking of broaching the subject. Though it was too late now, so she pressed on. “Do you… desire me?” Suddenly in seemed a rather silly question, and Anne quickly looked up from under her lashes, just in time to see Phillip’s face go completely blank with his confusion.

“I’m… um.” He paused, rubbed his fingers over his chin. “I desire your company.” His voice went up slightly at the end, making it into a question of its own. As if there were a wrong answer. 

Anne relaxed a little bit, tried not to laugh at the absurdity of it all. “I know that. I meant... in other ways,” she asked more pointedly. 

Phillip shut his eyes briefly, took in a deep breath through his nose. “Just to be completely clear, you are asking me if I--” He cut himself off suddenly, obviously searching for the best phrasing like she had. He soon gave up searching. “Are you really asking me if I ever _lust_ after you?”

“I am,” she said bluntly. By now his cheeks were as red as his ringmaster coat, and part of Anne felt a little badly, but now she wanted to hear the truth from him. Even if she had already guessed it. 

“Do you really need me to answer that?” he asked. She nodded firmly. Phillip laughed, a little hollow, and looked down at the stacks of papers before him nervously. “Yes,” he finally said. Slowly he forced himself to meet her gaze, a little hesitant in a way she hadn’t ever seen him before. “The honest answer is that I do desire you, very much.” 

She smiled at that, a warmth spreading out from her chest and settling in her stomach. Still, there were other things she wished to know. Maybe it was foolish to ask, but that wasn’t going to stop her. Not now.

“May I ask you something else?”

Phillip tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. “I feel like I will regret this, but go ahead.”

“Have you been with someone before? Like that?” Judging by the look on his face, Anne was certain he had known that question would be next. He looked at her for a while, and they both knew he wouldn’t lie; couldn’t lie. 

“Yes,” he sighed. 

“How many?”

“Anne--”

“No, I want to know. Please tell me?” She patted the space beside her. Phillip hesitated for a moment before crossing the room, and sitting down at the foot of the bed. He didn’t look at her, just stared straight ahead while Anne pulled her knees up to her chest, and studied his profile.

“It was two,” he said.

“I thought it might be more.” And she had. At times she imagined a whole plethora of admirers in his sorted past. Now that seemed rather silly as well.

“There are probably a fair number of people who think the same.” He looked at her askance, a little sardonic. “Bit of a scandal, after all.” 

Anne reached out and combed her fingers through his hair, a soothing gesture. A thought struck her, and she almost didn’t want to ask, but at this point she felt she was all in. “Were you in love with either of them?” She wasn't terribly keen on the idea, if she were completely honest with herself. But it wouldn’t have surprised her if he had been, Phillip wasn’t usually a man who did things in half measure. 

“No,” he said with a shake of his head before finally looking at her. “I have only ever been in love with you, Anne. From the first moment I saw you, it was only ever going to be you.” He lifted his hand to her cheek, thumb caressing gently. 

Anne smiled and laid her hand over his, nuzzled her cheek against his palm. “Will you just lie with me for a while?” 

It was something familiar, a comfort that had started while he was in the hospital. Anne curling up on the edge of his bed, just to be near him while he rested and healed. In the time since it had become a habit, and they would often cuddle together on his bed or hers, talking and simply enjoying being near one another. 

Phillip nodded, sat back to slip off his shoes. They easily found a comfortable position, huddled together on top of her blankets. Anne rested her head next to Phillip’s, laid her hand on his chest.

“You can ask me, you know?” 

“Ask you what? If you’ve ever taken a lover?” he teased.

“Mhm.” 

“Well? Have you?” 

“I haven’t.” Anne pressed herself a little closer against his side. “There’s something else you can ask me too.”

Now Phillip craned his neck to fully look at her, a bemused expression on his face. “Why miss Wheeler, have you been having impure thoughts about me?” he asked, still teasing, although his gaze never left hers. 

“Yes, I have,” she said. There were many things she had thought about, like his hands on her bare skin, and her hands on him. She had imagined what it would be like, without clothing between them and only skin against skin. What their kisses might be like if they didn’t hold themselves back; didn’t hold fast to a certain level of propriety. It seemed ridiculous at this point, given everything else between them, and yet things had remained mostly chaste. 

“You have?” His eyes went a little wide, but Anne thought it had more to do with the fact she was being so honest than the actual confession itself. 

Anne nodded and moved her hand to his jaw, let her thumb trace over his lips. Phillip pressed a kiss to the pad of her thumb. “Is that bad?” she asked. 

“No, I’m just not entirely sure what to do with that knowledge.” 

“You could kiss me?” 

“I could.” Phillip absently wet his lips, eyes dropping down to her mouth for a moment. “Do you want me to?” 

She nodded again, and Phillip rolled onto his side so he was facing her. Anne scooted herself a bit closer still, and closed the gap between them. The kiss was soft, lips brushing together. Phillip's hand went the curve of her waist, gentle and almost reverent. It wasn't what Anne wanted, not what she had imagined.

“Phillip?” she whispered against his mouth. 

He pulled back just enough to meet her eye, “What?” 

“I want more.”

“What do you want, exactly?” He furrowed his brow, uncertain.

“I want you and me. I want us. Together,” she said, sounding a lot bolder than she felt. In fact she was feeling rather nervous. For his part Phillip seemed just as nervous. She watched him swallow thickly, the muscles in his neck working, his breathing a little stilted. 

“I want that too,” he finally said. That made her feel a little less nervous. She kissed him again, this time less gentle, more wanting. More like she always imagined. 

Phillip ran his hand over her hip, and up her back. His fingers splayed against her shoulder blade, and brought her flush against him. Anne cupped his face with both hands, slanted her mouth over his. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do, or even how to articulate what it was she wanted. Her mind was buzzing, thoughts crowding together in an anxious mess. 

However, when Phillip's hand snaked under her blouse and traced a path over her skin, she found she stopped thinking altogether. His palm was warm and lightly calloused as it grazed her rib cage, the small of her back. Anne relied on her instincts, because it was all she could do. She slid one leg over his, her skirts riding up with the movement, and kissed him a little harder. A little fiercer. All she knew was that she wanted to be closer, she wanted to be as close to him as possible.

There was some amount of awkward fumbling as she tried to undo the buttons of his shirt, usually nimble fingers suddenly clumsy. Yanking his undershirt free from the waistband of his trousers, she let her hands drift over his sides and stomach, felt the roughened patches where his skin had healed from the burns. Something about that reminder made everything all the more pressing, her emotions all the stronger. Anne cupped his face again, kissed along his chin, under his jaw.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you more than I can put in words.”

“I know,” he said in a breathless sigh, stealing kisses against any part of her he could reach. “I know.” 

And of course he knew, of course she didn't have to say it. Because he loved her just as much as she loved him. Her lips found his again, hands exploring and caressing. Time seemed to slow down then, everything in a haze. All Anne was aware of -- all she cared about -- was the two of them, and the fact she never wanted Phillip to stop kissing her. To never stop touching her. 

Eventually she realized his dress shirt and undershirt were both gone, exposing even more warm skin and lean muscles. This was what she had thought about, what she had imagined. Anne sat up, and Phillip followed with his hands on the hem of her blouse. 

“Is this all right?” he asked. 

“Yes.” She smoothed her hand over his brow, kissed the corner of his mouth to reassure him. Then she lifted her arms over her head, and felt the fabric of her blouse slither over her skin. Phillip tossed it aside, and before Anne could even think his hands trailed down her arms, glided over her sides. She shivered as a delightful feeling of warm anticipation coiled in her stomach before settling much lower. 

Phillip's breathing was ragged, his hands not daring to move from where they encircled her waist. He tipped his head forward, rested it against hers.

“I love you,” he said, voice hushed. Slowly he lifted his hands and gently cradled her face as he laid his lips against hers. She felt her heart stutter.

Anne looped her fingers around his wrists, gently grounding herself to him as she leaned into the kiss. Everything in that moment with both of them kneeling on her bed, close enough to feel each other’s warmth but only connected by the barest touch, the gentlest kiss, almost seemed too much. Intimate in a way she had never imagined, tender in a way that made her heart ache. Anne let her fingers drift down from Phillip’s wrists, over his shoulders and down his back. 

When she pressed herself against him, bare chest to bare chest, he felt hot as if fevered, and perhaps she felt the same to him. Anne slowly sank back toward the bed, pulling Phillip with her. He let one hand move down her side, past her hip to ruck up the fabric of her skirt, fingers running over her thigh. Without thinking Anne rocked her hips against him, let out a soft moan in the back of her throat at the sensation that brought. 

From there it was like a dam had been broken, desire flooding them both. Nothing was slow, it was back to frantic, nearly bruising kisses as Anne wriggled out of her skirt and started on the buttons of Phillip’s trousers. Soon those were gone as well. Everywhere their skin touched seemed to burn in the most delightful, intoxicating way. Anne pressed herself closer, wanting more of that feeling. Phillip’s lips were at her throat, teeth nipping her skin. His knee between her legs. She rocked against him, wanting. Yearning.

Then his knee was replaced by his hand, warm palm and blunt fingers. All the sensations were so different that her own, when she was alone in the dark. Anne dug her fingers into Phillip’s hair, kept his mouth glued to hers, let him swallow her gasps and moans. She rocked against him, his fingers almost but never quite enough. Chasing, chasing, chasing until she was as taught as a length of rope fastened in place. Finally, it was like the rope had snapped and she was unraveling as she buried her face against Phillip’s neck, shaking and writhing.

Anne breathed deeply until she caught her breath, slowed her racing heart. Phillip was still a comforting presence at her side, warm and so inviting. She breathed in his skin, the scent of him. She kissed him, tasted him. She could feel the length of him pressing against her hip, and she wanted him. Still. Always. Forever. 

Turning, Anne draped her leg over Phillip’s hip. “I want you,” she whispered, and moved against him until… until…

Phillip paused, waited. He kissed her face gently, lips caressing with every soft press against her skin. Anne smiled and caught his lips. She pushed it from the comforting softness he offered, to deeper, rougher kisses. Then she rolled her hips. She swallowed his gasp this time, slid her arm over his waist and pulled him closer. 

Despite the urgency of their kisses, their movements remained slow, almost languid as they found a rhythm together. Anne wrapped herself around Phillip, until she was touching every inch of him. As close as they could physically be. He lifted his hand, slipped it gently around the back of her neck and kissed her so deeply it made her toes curl. Close in every way that matter. 

Time didn’t just slow down in Anne’s mind, it completely stopped. The world had stopped moving. Everything vanished until there was only that moment. Phillip pressed Anne back against the pillows as he kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, one leg still wrapped around his waist. She felt surer now and rolled her hips until they were both panting, breath heavy. It felt like flying. But not like on the trapeze. This was new and thrilling. She soared higher and higher, until she wasn’t sure she would ever come down again.

Blinding light, that seem to suffuse her body until she felt she was glowing. 

A heartbeat. Then she was falling. Down, down, down. 

Only it wasn’t frightening, like the trapeze. Here she was safe. With Phillip. Here when she fell, she fell with him. Falling, falling, falling gently until she was certain she floated back down to the bed. Back down to herself, secure in Phillip’s arms, his breath warm and his lips soft as he peppered her jaw with kisses. 

Anne turned her face toward Phillip, rested her forehead against his. She traced her fingers over his face. “I think,” she drawled, a lazy, sated smile lifting the corner of her mouth, “I can see the virtues of taking a lover.” 

He snorted, dropped his head to her shoulder while he laughed. “Does that mean you’ll be keeping me around for a while?” he finally asked. 

“Mmm.” She pretended to think it over. “Yes, I will. I think… forever should suffice.” 

“I think I can agree to those terms.” He grinned and kissed her once more.


End file.
